


Finding Method in the Madness

by elwon



Series: Madness & Mischief [3]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Anal Sex, Crossdressing, Dick puts his detective skills to use, Dirty Talk, Filmed Sex, M/M, Sex Toys, age reversal au, brief and glossed over descriptions of long term torture, filmed masturbation, the closest I'll ever get to writing case fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-18
Updated: 2018-04-18
Packaged: 2019-04-24 18:27:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14361108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elwon/pseuds/elwon
Summary: When Jason leaves Gotham for the anniversary of his disappearance, Dick decides to find out what really happened.





	Finding Method in the Madness

It’s been awkward at home recently ever since Jason killed the Joker. Dick doesn’t know how to feel about it, if he should be angry with J or accepting, break things off with him or forgive. All he knows is that Gotham City’s been in a party mood ever since, and that’s hard to argue with. Everyone at the Manor’s been even more on edge than before, and so closed lipped on the subject of Jason that Dick can’t even reference old cases he worked on without someone shutting down the conversation. Damian’s the only one not angry at him for even bringing him up, making life at home tenser than anyone wants. So Dick’s enjoying being alone in the house for once while everyone else is busy doing other things. He pulls out his phone when it dings with a text alert from ‘bae <3’.

_Hey, pretty bird. I gotta get of Gotham for a while, probably back next month. Will text you. Don’t worry about me. 143_

Dick sends back a quick reply of _OK. Going to miss you! :( Take care of yourself. 143_

J replies just as quickly with a _You’re the best girlfriend a guy could have._ Then ten seconds later a follow up of _boyfriend BOYFRIEND. Fucking autocorrect. Sry._

_I was going to say! But tbh given how often Big D shoves me in a skirt for undercover missions, I kind of don’t mind being called that.”_

_He does WHAT? DO YOU NEED ME TO KICK HIS ASS FOR YOU, BABY? Because I will. Srsly right fucken now if you want me too. Also if I could maybe get a pic of that next time you go undercover? That’d be awesome. 143_

_I’ll see what I can do._ Dick grins and decides to pick out an outfit later, just for J. He figures he deserves it after managing to text 143 twice in one conversation. He’d started signing his texts with it sometime after Christmas and at first Dick had been puzzled by it. 

So much so that three weeks ago when they met, he’d asked Jason about it when they were cuddled up after sex, breathing hard and relaxed and unguarded:

“Hey, I meant to ask, what’s 143 mean?” Dick says breathlessly into his chest, while J’s running his fingertips up and down his spine.

“I love you.” J tucks his free arm underneath his head, punching the pillow into a more comfortable shape, too satisfied to care that they had used a bed for the first time, and it still felt odd to him.

“I love you too.” Dick snuggles up and then something about Jason’s silence makes Dick look up.

“One: I,” J untucks his arm and brings his hand down so Dick can see him holding a solitary finger up, “Four: love,” and he uncurls three fingers up, “Three: you.” He tucks his pinky finger down and uses his thumb to keep it there.

“Oh” Dick says, happy and breathless and giddy like a child with the knowledge that Jason’s comfortable enough with him to be vulnerable like this.

***

Dick creeps through the cave to the storage room where they keep all their disguises. There’s no one about, but Dick takes the time to ninja sneak through the shadows anyway. Mostly because held in his clammy hand is his favourite dildo. He’s not even planning on using it, he needs a prop to tease J with; but Dick’s heart pounds with excitement every time he glances down at it anyway. His cellphone is a heavy weight in his pocket, waiting to be used soon.

He slips inside the room, setting down his phone and the toy by the full length mirror and making his way to the rails of women’s clothing to pick out an outfit. Dick rifles through the hangers dismissing dresses, tops and skirts alike quickly, eventually settling on a baby pink miniskirt, a lacy white crop top and some matching high heels. Biting his lip, he looks through the rack of silky and lacy underwear, ignoring the thoughts of how many variations there are and why on earth they have so many. Selecting a matching set of light blue satin bra and panties, Dick shimmies out of his clothes and slips on the underwear, adjusting himself to fit in them better. 

Looking down at the empty gap left between his chest and the bra, Dick grabs a pair of falsies and puts them inside the bra cups. There’s still a noticeable gap, so he grabs another set and slides them in too. He flicks his gaze into the mirror and gives himself an appreciative once over, liking how he looks so far. His legs don’t need shaving from the last time he went undercover only a week ago. 

Dick pulls on the shirt and skirt, strapping the heels onto his feet, getting used to them as he strides over to the wall of wigs, in all lengths and colours and styles. He’s drawn to the long straight red wig, briefly reminded of Barbara Gordon. Brushing his hair back, he fits the wig onto his head and stands in front of the mirror, tilting his head, watching as the long locks brush across his false breasts and Dick smiles widely in satisfaction. 

Picking up his phone, Dick strikes a coquettish pose, snapping a couple of selfies as he twists around to best show off his outfit, pushing his lips out to pout provocatively. He suction-cups the dildo to the mirror by his head, and he leans over to lick the tip, smiling and batting his eyelashes at the camera. Taking a step back, he flicks through the photos he’s taken already, deleting the ones with awkward angles or lighting and saving the ones he likes the most. It’s a weird sort of turn on, seeing himself like this, lips shining from where he’s licked them, the blue of his eyes dark and soft against the bright red hair of the wig.

The success of the pictures he’s already taken makes him feel invincible and reckless, so he decides to take a few more. Dick unsticks the dildo from the mirror and moves it to the ground. His pulse spikes, his stomach doing pleasant flips as kneels down around it, letting the head peek out between his thighs. Dick takes another selfie, and another with his legs spread wide open, the toy pressing into his balls and sending a tingling up and down his spine, while his cock starts to thicken and rise. 

It’s a familiar kind of madness that’s always prompted by thinking of J that makes Dick slide the panties off; that makes him set his phone to record video; to slick himself up with the nearby bottle of water-based lube that Damian had told him shame-facedly was there to ease the removal of a skin tight latex suit that belonged to Bruce, and then quickly changed the topic of conversation for which Dick will be forever grateful. It’s the same madness that makes him rub the thick black silicone along his crack, a hitch in his breath as it catches on his rim. Dick leans back, tossing his hair over his shoulders and begins to slide down on the dildo, enjoying the stretch as he does. His mouth drops open as he bottoms out, legs spreading mindlessly to get that last inch. 

Dick forces his head up, hands tangling in the wig, looking directly into the camera, letting every little bit of emotion and sensation show on his face as he rides the thick length. His cock’s hard and dripping wet, slapping against his skirt with every bounce. The thought of J watching him drives him wild, making him move faster and harder. Dick grabs at his false boobs, squeezing them and groaning at the fact that he can’t feel it at all. He flicks his gaze between the camera, making eye contact with J, trying to convey how much he wishes he were here with him, and the mirror, watching the pretty twink in the long red wig fuck himself for someone else’s pleasure. Every time he lifts up the slide of the toy makes him clench down as the push and pull of it hits the good spots, and every drop down punches a breathy little noise out of him for how amazingly electric it feels.

His orgasm catches him unawares, before he can even wrap a hand around his cock, cum arcing up high in the air. As it splatters down onto his face, across his cheek and mouth, the sharp salty taste makes Dick whimper loudly. Breathing hard, Dick kneels up, letting the dildo slide out of him and shakily crawls to his phone, turning the recording off. Unsteadily he kicks off the shoes, pulls off the wig and makes his way to the showers.

Later, when he’s dried off and back in his own clothes and his own room, dildo safely washed and back in its drawer, Dick lies back on his bed and opens the gallery on his phone and flicks through his selfies once again, smile widening on his face when he thinks of J’s reaction when he receives them. His finger hovers over the video, before bringing it down on the icon and watching as slick fingers disappear behind the dolled up version of himself on the screen. Dick feels heat pool in his gut as he watches himself sit on the dildo, mouth dropping open in pleasure. The sight of his legs spreading, thighs quivering, has Dick shoving his hand down his shorts, wrapping around his throbbing cock and jerking in time with his former self’s thrusts. 

His hole aches and clenches in memory and the image of recreating the video with J pops into his head, Dick in his lap as the both stare into the mirror. J groaning filth into his ear, dark hair tickling his cheek, as he tells him how pretty Dick looks, how good he feels, that Dick was made for J to have and own and _love_ , holding him in those strong arms, eyes flashing with lust. The look of sublime bliss on his double’s face as he comes tips Dick over the edge again. He closes his eyes, letting his breathing slow, using some tissues to clean up the mess. 

Dick picks up his phone again, swiping open to his conversation with Jason, sending him the string of selfies with a smirk. A few minutes later his phone chimes with a text from Jason.

_Kid, you are a menace and I LOVE IT. TY, you’re way too good to me._

Dick sends the video in response, doubt nearly getting the best of him before he hits send. There’s a nerve wracking ten minutes before J sends a reply. At first it’s just a long string of eggplant emojis, followed by three splashes of water, and then a <3 instead of a heart emoji, because Jason always uses the less than three instead. But then there’s a second text. 

_Does it count as joining the mile high club if you’re watching a video? If it don’t, it should. Also are ya trying to kill me? You’re so fucking perfect, I can’t even. This is gonna keep me going till I come back, and then I wanna live performance from you. 143_

***

“Damnit!” Dick mutters, his fourth attempt at unlocking the batcomputer files on Jason’s disappearance ending in failure like the three before it. He looks over to where Damian is typing up his own report of the night’s activities and tells himself that if he can’t get the files open by his tenth attempt then he’ll give up for the night. He wouldn’t even be looking except for how J still has screaming nightmares and for Dick seeing him have even one of those a month ago was one too many. 

He’d asked Jason to tell his side of the story back then and J had looked at him with this lost, hurt look in his eyes. He’d started and stopped several times before he’d eventually hung his head in his hands and told Dick that the words just wouldn’t come out. J had kept trying even after that until Dick had begged him to stop – that he’d get as much information as he could from the family and then maybe J could simply say yes or no to any questions Dick asked him. The look of gratitude on Jason’s face had convinced Dick it was the only way, but the guilt of trying to make J talk had weighed on him all the way home that night.

Dick’s on his ninth attempt when he realises that Damian has moved to stand right behind him. The tense, stern look on his face makes Dick want to run. The only thing that keeps him in his seat is knowing he’s doing this for J.

“Why are you trying to read those files?” Damian asks, the flatness of his voice a clear warning.

“Because... Because I need to know what happened, Damian! No one will tell me anything.” Dick says, hoping he doesn’t sound as whiny as that felt. “I mean, I get it. No one wants to be reminded of the gory details that telling me would bring up... but how am I supposed to understand why everyone’s acting like they are when I don’t even have a quarter of the information I should?” 

“Do you promise that if I allow you access you won’t try to confront Todd? That you won’t ask anyone but Brown to talk about this? That this is purely for your own edification, Grayson?” Damian sighs, looking tired and worn and older than he should. 

“Yes. I promise. I’m not going to try to get J-Todd into police custody. I just want to stop upsetting everyone by asking.” Dick nods, it’s not the entire truth, but Damian doesn’t need to know that Dick’s investigation is going to go beyond the files they have. 

“Don’t make me regret this, Grayson.” Damian sighs again, but leans forward to type the password in, unlocking all the files for Dick to read. “Don’t stay up to late reading that. It’s hard going at the best of times.” Damian walks back to his own work and does an excellent pretence of being absorbed in his own files. Dick takes a deep breath and gets down to reading the details of Jason Todd-Wayne’s disappearance and subsequent presumed death at the hands of the Joker that they have. 

***

There’s surprisingly little actual evidence in the files on Jason’s disappearance. While there were weeks and weeks worth of investigating, the solid information they’d found was minimal at best. Dick ends up printing out all the files, thinking that having paper copies to move around into a timeline will be more convenient, and that it’s a lot more likely that no one will walk in on him working on them in his bedroom than sitting in front of the computer in the cave. With all the print outs laying around him on his bedroom floor, Dick sets up his timeline on his wall. Starting with Jason leaving the school buildings and his failure to appear at the car where Alfred was waiting for him, along to the crowbar and the bomb the Joker set off less than a week later, the report on the Joker’s arrest and ending with the official Death declared in Absentia certificate. The timeline lasts about six months, with worryingly huge gaps left open between the confirmed events. 

Dick shuffles through the left over papers, trying to place them along the line. There’s the torn and tattered note in Jason’s handwriting claiming to have found his birth mother and that he’s going to look for her. Dick pins it after Alfred’s report of waiting futilely for Jason to appear. Next up on the timeline is the forensics report on the bombing, followed by the suspiciously intact crowbar with hair attached that was the only thing to survive the bomb blast in the warehouse that Jason had been beaten in. Which should have at least burned in the fire, but hadn’t. And if the crowbar was in perfect condition, then Jason’s body should have been recovered too, at least in part. After that there’s the small bloodstain found in the basement of a suburban house that the Joker had been hiding out in that matched Jason’s DNA. Dick pins that a while after the bombing, leaving a large gap between it and the Joker’s arrest. The last thing Dick pins up is the death certificate about a month after the Joker was arrested for Jason’s kidnapping and assumed murder.

The rest of the papers concern all the places that Bruce, Damian and Tim had searched looking for Jason’s remains. They’d scoured what seems like the entire city looking for him, only to find nothing more than a few scattered bloodstains and traces of sweat. Dick remembers the palpable aura of frustration that had cast a pall of regret and creeping dread over the Manor when Dick had first come to live there. He’d been caught up in his own grief most of the time, but even through the fog of loss, he’d seen how badly losing Jason and the mystery of his whereabouts had affected his new family.

Dick ends up clipping them all together to pin up on the timeline before the certificate. He stands back, trying to take it in as a while. The truth is there’s simply not enough information to explain everything. With the Joker keeping his silence in death, just like he did in life, that leaves Dick with barely anything at all. He needs to talk to someone about it. The family is out for obvious reasons. He could talk to his friends, but honestly that seems like a violation of both the family and J’s privacy. Which leaves Stephanie and J himself, not that J could talk about it even if he was in Gotham, so Dick’s only option is Stephanie. 

Dick sighs, running his hand through his hair and dragging it down over his face. There’s nothing for it but to pack up all his files and take them to Stephanie and hope that she can help him work through it all. 

***

The bag hanging off his shoulder feels far heavier than it should. Dick idly thinks that the weight of expectation he has for the bundle of files in the bag is trying to drag him down through the floor of the elevator. It’s a stupid idle thought that he dismisses as soon as reaches the floor that Stephanie lives on. He hasn’t spent a lot of time with Stephanie, partly because she rarely comes to the Manor after her falling out with Bruce, and partly because she’s incredibly busy with running her own team and trying to have a life outside of the Wayne family.

He knocks nervously on her apartment door, hearing the faint sounds of flailing that he automatically identifies with Stephanie, despite the fact that she’s one of the more capable people he knows in the hero community that isn’t a meta, or an alien, or a princess from a magically hidden island. Stephanie Brown opens the door looking slightly frazzled, blonde hair trying to escape the messy braid it’s been twisted into, and with a few questionable stains on her rumpled top. Dick’s attention is immediately taken away from her appearance by the blinding smile that comes over her face when she realises her visitor is him.

“Dickie! Hey, I wasn’t expecting you, was I? Sorry, I just woke up from a _badly needed_ nap...” Stephanie interrupts herself with a huge yawn and Dick can’t help but smile at her. 

“No, but you said I could drop by, anytime, right?” Dick smiles sheepishly, ducking his head to up the charm. “I have some files I need to talk through with someone who was there. Have you got time?”

“For you? Definitely, sweetie.” Stephanie winks at him. “So what are these files? Don’t mind the mess, Cass left for Hong Kong again last night, and I haven’t tidied up after her going away party yet.” Dick carefully picks his way over to the comfortable purple ‘no-it’s-eggplant!’ sofa, picking up and moving a few clothes of Stephanie’s that obviously haven’t made it to the laundry basket yet, in order to sit down. He takes his files out of his bag and sets them down on the thankfully clear coffee table.

Dick nervously looks around the bright, airy, light yellow room, taking in all the photos on the wall of Stephanie and her college friends, the picture of her, her mother and Cass celebrating Stephanie graduating College, and the portrait of her and Damian, who’s wearing the gentlest smile that Dick’s ever seen on him. High up in one corner, nearly hidden by all the others is one of her with Jason. He’s about fourteen, wearing a faded and slightly ripped heavy metal band t-shirt, with Stephanie wearing a matching one. They’re sweaty and smiling and given the huge amount of people in the background, it looks as though they’ve just come out of a Twisted Sister concert. There’s a painful pang in Dick’s heart, and he wonders who took that photo.

“I uh... with everything that’s been going on, with the Joker, I mean.” Dick says, and Stephanie makes the same face of distaste she always does when his name is brought up. “I wanted to know exactly what went on with J-Todd. The Red Hood. I mean, how it all happened. I can’t talk to Bruce or Tim or Alfred about it. I tried to talk to Damian, but well. He wouldn’t. He let me read the files, but there’s so much missing from them. Can you help me?” Stephanie looks away and then looks back at Dick, taking a deep breath.

“You know that was a rough time for all of us, don’t you?” Stephanie moves over to sit next to him on the sofa, shoving the clothes onto the floor without a thought, and flopping down with an air of resignation. Dick nods, and Stephanie twines her fingers around the end of her braid. “I guess I’m the least emotionally involved person here, huh. OK, squirt, lay it on me.”

“Thanks, Stephanie. I really do appreciate this.” Dick says, starting to lay out all his files on the table. Stephanie gives him a small tired smile.

“Just Steph, Dickie. My full name always makes me think my mom is about to ground me for sneaking out at night again.” Steph leans forward, scanning Dick’s files and gesturing for him to begin.

“OK, Steph, here’s what I got from the files, and the few things Damian’s told me about that whole time.” Dick taps the first file in the line. “Damian and Tim were mostly off with their teams, and Jason didn’t really have any friends he could talk to about stuff with Bruce, and they’d been arguing, so when he found out his birth mother might be alive he went to go meet her. Only he never made it as the Joker kidnapped him.” Dick pauses to look at Steph, and she nods.

“I wish he’d felt he could talk to me, but I guess he saw me more as Tim’s girlfriend or Batgirl to do that. I was so busy helping Cass that I didn’t check in on him enough. I’ll always wonder if maybe things would have been different if I’d introduced the two of them.” Steph shrugs, regret obvious on her face.

“They never met?” Dick hadn’t realised that. Jason must have felt so alone.

“Cass was already globetrotting around with the Justice League by the time that Jason became Robin. She never really came home the entire time he was with us, and well, Barbara only started training with me right around the time he went missing. So many missed opportunities.” Steph says sadly and Dick looks down at the files biting his lip fighting back the whirl of emotions to stay calm.

“OK, so... Alfred reported him missing.” Dick taps the next piece of paper. “Obviously you were all looking for him at that point. Then the bombing happens and Bruce finds the crowbar...” Dick shuffles the next few reports over. “Then you get the forensic report saying there were no remains at the bomb site, which is odd because the Joker’s claims to have killed Jason that night, right? So you’re all looking for his body everywhere in Gotham, and you find traces of DNA all over the place but no remains, and you keep looking for months, but never find anything, not even when the Joker’s captured.” 

“So far, that’s exactly what happened. The Joker never revealed what he’d done with the body, no matter what we said or did. Probably exactly because we wanted it so bad, he kept that information to himself.” Steph leans back on the sofa, tucking her feet under her. “We were all devastated; Damian and Tim came back from New York and San Francisco to help look. Hell, even the Superboys came to help! We never found anything more than those bloodstains, and those took months to find. Once the Joker was in custody, I think we lost a lot of hope in bringing him home.”

“Which brings me to the death certificate.” Dick piles the papers and files back into order and looks at them despondently. “Six months. I know you didn’t stop looking, so why get the certificate?”

“That was Bruce. I know Damian was against getting it. I... I wasn’t, but I did think it was too soon. Tim agreed with Bruce, though. I think we started to give up. I don’t know, I think we all felt it would be easier to let it go. That Jason had to be dead and running ourselves ragged trying to find his body was helping no one.” Steph leans over and wraps an arm around Dick’s shoulders. “It might just have been that the alternative was unbearable, kinda unthinkable, that he could still be alive and that not one of us, not even the kryptonians or magic users could find him. I think we had to try to move on to not go insane. Insaner. Is that a word? Probably not.”

“And we don’t even know if that was wrong because Jason’s not telling.” Dick says, resting his head on Steph’s shoulder.

“It’s a giant clusterfuck of shoulda woulda coulda. And honestly, I don’t think knowing would even make things better. Or worse. The whole thing sucks so hard.” Steph ruffles Dick’s hair. “Guess I wasn’t much help?” Dick shrugs, because, well. “OK, what I can do, and do so great, is waffles. You want waffles? Because I want waffles. Let’s have waffles.”

“Really? Because you know what would make me feel better?” Dick says, a smile tugging at his lips. “Waffles.” 

***

About four hours after Dick had messaged J with a hopefully non-pressurising request for more information, _Hey J. I’ve gone through all the files we have on what happened to you. But. Uh. We’re missing a hell of a lot. You totally don’t have to tell me anything, but anything you could tell me would really help. Please?_ , he finally gets a reply from Jason. It’s from a burner email, and Dick’s nerves mix uncomfortably in his stomach with the nausea at the thought that J might actually tell him what the Joker did.

Dick skims the first few lines and looks around his bedroom. Suddenly he wants to get out of there, doesn’t want to taint his place of safety and refuge with the horrors that J’s lived through. He keeps his cell in his hand as he makes his way to the garden overlooking the ocean and Gotham city in the distance. He’s hoping the bright, warm sunlight and clear blue skies should take the edge off what he’s about to read. Dick settles down to sit in the grass of the well maintained lawns and takes a moment to feel the warmth of the sun, inhale the fresh air and the faint smell of Alfred’s roses from nearby, grounding himself in the now, as he flicks J’s email back open and braces himself.

_You’re lucky you asked me this over text, Dickie, because I don’t know what I’da done if heard you ask this, or did it face to face. I’m never gonna talk about this, so if you ask again... Don’t. Just don’t._

_So you know how the Joker got me? Great, saves me a couple paragraphs. Turns out my ‘Mom’ was someone he hired to lure me out. Tied me up, beat me. With a crowbar. Scrambled my brains but good. Let his goons kick me around for fun. Set off a bomb just big enough to fake my death. He dosed me with Fear Gas, then he locked me in a metal trunk and left me in there, while they dragged me from hideout to hideout. Took me out every so often to laugh at me, watch me crawl towards the scraps of food they left out for me. Never fed me enough or regularly, to keep me weak so I couldn’t get away. Didn’t even need to keep me tied up. Put me back in the box after a few minutes, before my arms and legs could stretch out from the curled up position the box forced them into._

_Every time he let me out he’d crow “Jack-in-the-box!” Fucker thought he was so funny. Never noticed that no one was laughing. I don’t know how long he kept me. Time was elastic in the dark. It meant nothing. You lose your mind with nothing to focus on. I was a gibbering wreck that would have done anything not to go back in. He made me do things I don’t want to ever think about again. He always put me back in anyway. The last thing he ever said to me was ‘Back in the box, Jack!’ and then he laughed. I remember his face had a fresh burn, the shape of a batarang._

Dick puts his phone down, taking a deep breath and wrapping a hand around his upper arm. He tightens his grip, digging in his short nails into the skin and letting the faint pinpricks of pain distract him from the tears he wants to let roll down his face. Batman gave the Joker that burn just two days before he was arrested for Jason’s kidnapping. The warmth of the sun is doing nothing to combat the chills running through him as he reads between the lines of J’s words. Imagining all the details that he’s glossing over because of how painful they are. 

Dick hears Ace barking in the distance, and then the sound of his dog running across the gravel outside the kitchen means that Alfred’s let Ace out into the garden. Dick calls out to Ace, his voice cracking slightly. Ace runs across the lawn, skidding to a halt in front of Dick and then dropping down onto his back to wiggle wildly in the grass. Dick tries to grin, but feels it failing. He pets Ace’s waiting belly, causing the dog to wag his tail fast and happily. When Ace curls up next to him, dropping is head onto Dick’s lap, he rests his hand on the scruff of Ace’s neck, takes another steadying breath, picking up his phone to finish reading the email.

_Coupla days later, instead of letting me out, they picked up the box. Started moving it about until they put it on a truck or something. They drove for a while and then stopped. Took the box off the truck and set it down, started throwing what I later realised was dirt on it. They buried me. And then they left. I was too weak to break out. Ran out of air, passed out, died, I guess._

_I woke up. Felt strong for the first time since Joker got me. Managed to bust the lid open, crawled up through the dirt. They buried me shallow, because I only had to get through a foot or so. Full moon was out and it was raining hard. I never felt anything so good as that rain, Dickie. Maybe never will again. Started walking in the direction of the city lights, so I guess we were out past Bristol. I walked for a coupla hours till I got into the city. Anyway there was some big battle going on, B, Big D, T and you, fighting the Joker. You guys won, obviously._

Dick remembers that night. It was his first night out as Robin after two months of training, too early in everyone’s opinion, but it was an all hands on deck situation, so Dick had hit the streets. Six months after the Joker had been taken into custody and stayed there while refusing to say where Jason’s body was. Eleven months after Jason had gone missing. That Jason had still been alive while Bruce and the others had been trying to find his body is the unbearable alternative they’d all refused to consider. And Dick can’t tell anyone, not without breaking their hearts, anyway. 

For the first time, Dick realises why some of the papers called Bruce taking him in _unseemly_. Looking back on it now, one month after your kid is declared dead, there’s someone new in your house? Dick did only come to them as a temporary foster kid, even though he ended up staying, but it’s still uncomfortably fast. 

_I stood in the crowd, watching. B and T arrested him, gave him to the police. That was when I realised that no matter what he’d done to me, the thousands he’d killed, B and the rest of you would never truly stop him. We were supposed to be a family, but me dying? Meant nothing. Not as Jason Todd, not as Robin. I meant nothing to any of them. Still not over that betrayal._

_I wasn’t thinking. I was reacting. Acting on raw instinct. Ended up at the docks. Snuck onto a boat going to Santa Prisca. Stayed there for about two weeks. Tried to get my head into a good place, didn’t really succeed. Was sleeping rough on the beach, jumping at shadows. I was a total fucking mess when I bumped into Big D’s mom. She took me in, helped me find myself again. Reminded me why I wanted to help people in the first place. Found me some teachers to be a better Batman than B or Big D. Gave me enough money to start up in Gotham, to make a real difference here._

_I’m not gonna apologise for offing the Joker. He was a monster that needed ending. He recognised me, yanno? Called me ‘Jack-in-the-box’ again. I knew I couldn’t let him live, so, yeah. I emptied the whole fuckin’ clip into him. I don’t regret it. I feel free. I’m still a mess, but knowing he can’t hurt anyone else ever again? It makes all the difference._

_I don’t expect you to understand. I honest to god hope you never do, because if you do, that means I and everyone else around you has let you down more than anyone should be. I can’t, won’t let that happen to you. You’re the only good thing in this godforsaken hole of a city.  
J._

In the bright streaming sunshine of the garden, Dick sets his phone down and tries not to shake as he pets Ace and stares blindly at the Gotham skyline in the distance while he fights back the tears.

***

Dick sneaks out the door and into his nondescript hide-from-the-press car late Saturday morning. At first he’s only driving idly around Bristol, ‘trying to blow away the cobwebs’ as Alfred says. He pulls over a little way from the bridge into Gotham and swipes the screen on his cell. Calling Jason is probably not a wise move, but fuck if he doesn’t need to hear J’s voice. His finger hovers over the call button, tapping down before Dick’s really ready. J picks up Dick’s call on the first ring. 

“Hey Dickiebird, what’s up?” J says, and just hearing his voice makes Dick melt, his eyes closing without his permission to hear better.

“J, I wanted to hear you. I... I got your email.” Dick swallows, feeling nervous for bringing the subject up. “How... Are you, OK?”

“Me? I’m great. I’m sipping on a Mai Tai, sand between my toes, sun shining and watching the waves roll on in to the beach.” Dick can hear the lazy wolfish grin in his voice, and his toes curl in the memory of J’s smirk.

“The beach? Sounds nice. I miss staying in Florida in the winters.” Dick used to stay there with his family in the off season, but that was years ago. Dick looks out the window to the spring day in Gotham and the sun reflecting off the water in the channel between the mainland and the city.

“Never been to Florida, but Santa Prisca’s great this time of year. Nothing better that sitting at a beach-side bar and working on your tan.” J drawls, and Dick imagines him sitting at a bar decorated in palm leaves, clean white sand behind him, with the ocean crashing gently onto the shore.

“That’s where you are? Santa Prisca? I can’t really imagine you in shorts and sandals.” Dick grins, pictures J in a loose sleeveless top, board shorts and beach sandals, sunglasses perched on his nose. It doesn’t really fit J at all, but maybe in another life, another universe, where he’s a lifeguard and he and Dick don’t have to sneak around, it could work.

“Yeah, figured I deserved some relaxation time without looking over my shoulder for the Bat. No comment on my clothing. What are you wearing is _my_ line.” J says, and Dick’s sure he’s thinking back to Dick’s video. “So, where are you?”

“Just driving around. Needed to get out of the house after your email.” Dick tells him, gripping the car door handle, bracing himself for J’s reaction. “There’s actually something I need to ask you.”

“Dickie... I’m not gonna talk about it.” J says with a resigned sigh, and yeah, Dick was expecting that.

“No, no, not about... it’s about the night you came back. I can’t stop thinking about it. I... I really think I need to...” Dick fumbles his words, wishing he’d thought this through more before he called. 

“Dick. No.” J says firmly. Dick can’t blame him.

“Just... just hear my question out and if you still don’t want to answer, I’ll never mention it again.” Dick tries to keep a calm steady voice, he gets the feeling that whining will just piss J off.

“...Fine. Ask.” J says, clipped and impatient.

“You said you walked into the city? Do you remember the route?” Dick’s tongue darts out nervously to wet his lips.

“That’s what you want to know? Why that?” J sounds confused and relieved, right up until he takes a deep breath. “You wanna find the gravesite. _Jesusfuck_ , Dickie...”

“I’m sorry. I am. But I need to see it.” Dick closes his eyes and hopes J doesn’t get mad or hang up.

“Why? So you can tell B and Big D all about it? What the hell good would that do?” J’s pissed, but still talking, so Dick takes the chance to press his case.

“No. No. Not for them. For me. I can’t explain it, J. I can’t get it out of my mind. I need to... damn, I don’t even know. Fill in the last gap, I guess...” Dick trails off, he knows he’s asking a lot, but Dick wouldn’t be Robin if he could let things go that easily. 

“I remember the route, sort of. This is such a shitty idea, I can’t believe I’m about to tell you.” J sighs heavily again, and the phone line’s good enough for Dick to pick up every nuance.

“Thank you, J.” Dick’s so grateful that when J gets back he’s going to give him whatever he wants.

“Yeah, don’t thank me for this. For fuck’s sake.” J heaves another big sigh down the connection. “Where are you, because I’m gonna have to give you the route backwards. I crossed over the main bridge between Bristol and the city. I remember turning right at the Von Haber place.”

“Hang on, I’m going to put you on speaker.” Dick sets his phone into its holder, staring up at the Von Haber place. It’d be convenient that he’s already here, if there were _anything_ convenient about this trip. “OK, so I’m going to turn left at the Von Habers’, yes?”

“Yeah. Keep going till you come to this huge thorn bush. It took me a coupla minutes walking.” J says.

“I see it, about 800 yards away.” Dick says, staring along the long road. It takes Dick barely a minute, but it must have felt a much longer journey walking in the dark. “OK, I’m at the bush.”

“Turn right. There should be a dirt track?” J sounds distracted, but Dick’s not going to call him on it. 

“Yeah, how long do I keep going along that?” Dick turns onto the track, not caring about his car’s suspension on the bumpy road.

“I have no idea, kid. There was a huge old tree stump about halfway along, though. I tripped over it on my way out.” J sounds vaguely embarrassed at admitting that. Any other time Dick would take the opportunity to tease him, but right now that would feel wrong.

“OK, I’m past the stump. Where do I stop?” Dick eyes the stump as he drives by. It’s barely a foot high and at least six foot wide, and in the dark it’s no wonder that Jason tripped over it.

“There was a big old gnarled tree. I think you’re gonna have a problem driving from there. Walk down the footpath for a while until you come to a clearing, got a coupla small standing stones.” J pauses to give a small snort. “Like someone tried to recreate Stonehenge and then got bored with all the hard work after like three of them. It’s there somewhere. ...Dickie, you don’t have to do this. You could turn back right now.” 

“I know, but I have to. And, uh, yeah. Definitely can’t drive through that.” Dick stops the car, switching off the ignition and pocketing the keys. He grabs the phone from its holder, and gets out, circling round to the trunk of the car. He gets out the snow shovel and locks the trunk, turning to face the footpath that leads into the woods. “J? Can you talk to me? About anything, I don’t care what.”

“You wanna hear about Santa Prisca? Fuck it, I’ll tell you about Santa Prisca. ...It’s not all like it is on the news. I mean, yeah, sure there are parts like that, but it’s got its good parts too.” J says, not waiting for Dick’s input.

“Yeah?” Dick prompts him, the cool light breeze feeling good on his nervous clammy skin.

“Yeah. Like the sunshine. Till I came here I never understood the phrase ‘buttery sunshine’. It’s all gold and soft and kinda dreamlike. At least when you’re inside, or under some shade.” Jason sounds a little distant, as if he’s forcefully distracting himself. “If you’re not, it’s harsh and white and kinda blinding. S’funny how things can change just a little and have a huge difference.”

“I wouldn’t mind some sun. It’s supposed to be spring, but the skies are so grey and dull here right now. Wet, cold and miserable.” Dick muses, needing the distraction just as much as J does.

“Heh, maybe I’ll bring you with me here, next time. Think you’d like that?” J sounds fond, and Dick’s heart does a little flip in his chest.

“Yeah, I think I would.” Dick stops walking as he comes to the clearing. “I think I’m here. Three small standing stones.” There’s a large patch of discoloured dirt to the right of the stones, maybe four feet around. Jason had been in a box not a coffin, Dick remembers.

“Dick...” J sounds like he’s gearing up to tell Dick to leave it there, but Dick can’t. He really can’t.

“Tell me about... uh, the bar fights you’ve in since you got there.” Dick interrupts J before he can get into a good argument for why Dick should give up there.

“Who says I’ve been in any!” J protests, and Dick smirks, because there’s no way he hasn’t. “Alright, fine. But it’s only been three. I’ve been trying to keep a low profile. Don’t want Bane on my case.” 

Dick sets his phone down on the nearest stone and digs the snow shovel into the soil. As J tells him how he’d bested three large drunk men without even laying a single finger on them ‘no challenge at all. So disappointing, I gotta tell you’, Dick digs deeper, after about four shovels worth, the tip digs into metal, and Dick starts to work on clearing a bigger area. The faint sound of birdsong lends the experience a surreal quality. The clearing’s a peaceful, natural place. What Dick’s hoping to find isn’t.

Eventually he’s cleared enough to see the edge of the box, and wedge his shovel under the lip of the lid. He levers it up, feeling the soil give way as he flips it up. He stumbles back as it goes, landing on his ass and staring into the small four by three foot metal trunk, lined with lead. The flap that was secured by a padlock is broken off at the top hinge, probably from Jason fighting his way out. He stares at the scratch marks in the top and sides. He’s so distracted by them that it takes the smell coming from it to bring him back to the now where J’s calling his name with obvious worry in his voice. 

“Dick! Dick, answer me!” Jason’s nearly frantic, and Dick’s guilt spikes over his disgust.

“I’m here. I’m here, I’m OK. Sorry, it was just... It’s the smell. I.” Dick twists and retches into the dirt and weeds around him, letting the phone slip out of his hand. He coughs, sitting back and picking the phone up to bring it to his ear. “My god, that is... there aren’t words.”

“It’s the stench of death and someone being forced to live inside that box for several months.” J says, voice heavy and low and Dick’s heart breaks for him. “OK, here’s what you’re going to do. You’re going to stand up, start walking back to your car, and then you’re going to sit in it for ten minutes doing all those breathing exercises I know B taught you, and then you’re going to drive home. Get Alfred to give you a cup of tea, and then forget you were ever here? OK?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll... I’ll do that.” Dick says, standing up slowly, picking up the shovel and digging it into the box, taking a fair amount of dirt up. He’ll take it back to the cave for examination, and then leave the co-ordinates for Damian to find. And he’ll say nothing to anyone about it. Oh god, they can’t be more than fifteen minutes away from Wayne manor. How unbearably cruel to be _so close_ to Jason and _nobody knew_. Dick backs away, keeping the shovel level, and starts walking for the car. “J, could you... Could you keep talking?”

“Just for you, baby. Hey, you wanna hear the song I learned earlier? It’s complete filth. I think you’ll like it.” J starts humming a slow, swaying kind of tune, long enough for Dick to get the rhythm and then starts singing the filthiest things Dick’s ever heard in Santa Priscan accented Spanish. Dick clings to the comforting sound of Jason’s voice until he reaches his car. 

***

Dick knocks on the door to the warehouse before opening it and going inside. J’s expecting him, so the door’s unlocked, and Dick adjusts his bag on his shoulder. Jason’s been back in Gotham for a few days but this is the first time they’ve seen each other since he killed the Joker. Dick makes enough noise as he walks over that J should hear him. He’s at the table, looking through blueprints again, and Dick’s tempted to ask, but given that he’s no idea what state of mind J’s in, he doesn’t, and instead kisses him on the cheek to say hello.

“Hey, good to have you back!” Dick says, smiling, eyes sparking with happiness at being around J. “Did you bring me a souvenir?”

“I brought myself, that’s all you need.” J picks up a cheap plastic highball tumbler with the words ‘Fiesta en Santa Prisca!’ printed shoddily in bright colours from the table and shoves it at Dick. “But you can have this if you really want, I guess.”

“I love it. Thank you! Oh, hey, you mind if I go get changed?” Dick takes the plastic cup and beams at J, putting it in his bag.

“No, do what you want, kid. Just don’t grab anything out of the cupboards in my bedroom.” J lifts his head from the blueprints to grin at Dick, causing butterflies in his tummy at the warmth in J’s eyes and the way his dark hair falls over his forehead just so. Dick’s missed his stupidly handsome face and his jawline and even his stubble. He’d forgotten how big J’s biceps are, how wide his shoulders are, and now he notices the tan J’s picked up in Santa Prisca. There’s a fine spattering of freckles across his nose and cheekbones. Dick’s got it so bad, it’s ridiculous. 

Dick’s only been in the room that J’s uses as a bedroom once, they don’t usually make it there. He looks around at the large, mostly empty room. The double bed pushed up against the wall is the only furniture in the room apart from a lone chair that a leather jacket is hanging from. Spartan is far too nice a word for it. For a second he wonders how Jason can live like this, but then he remembers the box, and is amazed that J can even stand being inside any building. No wonder he chooses to live in a warehouse with barely any internal walls, it’s almost like being outside. Dick shakes himself like a dog, and starts to take his clothes off. 

He slides his new pair of red panties up his freshly shaved legs, puts the matching bra on and pads it out with the falsies. Dick shimmies into his new pink silk dress, although maybe calling it a dress is generous. The tight short skirt clings to his body, only barely covering his ass. The top is comprised of a loose strap attached at the low waistband that hooks around his neck to cover his ‘breasts’, leaving it completely open at the back, sides and giving it a deep ‘v’ front. Dick makes sure the skirt lies as smoothly over his lace panties as it can, and hooks the halter neck front over his head covering his bra cups. 

Dick looks around for a mirror, having to open one of the wardrobe doors before he finds one, and checks himself out. He looks great, but he needs to add the finishing touches, so he swipes a little eyeshadow over his lids and strokes some gloss over his lips before fitting the shoulder length black wig on his head. He straps his feet into his black high heels and smoothes down his dress again. Taking a breath, he saunters over to the bedroom door, adding a little extra sway into his walk.

“I promise this is the only comment I’m going to make, but after last week, you wanting to live in a warehouse makes so much more sense.” Dick calls out from by the door. Jason doesn’t reply, but he does stiffen up, so he obviously heard, his shoulders relaxing when Dick doesn’t say anything more. J looks up and over when he hears the click clacking of heels on the concrete floor. The surprise on his face melts into a heart stopping grin as he sees Dick’s dress and wig. 

“Wow, I wasn’t expecting... fuck, you look pretty. What’d I do to deserve this?” J stares at Dick and the intensity of it makes Dick’s head spin in the best way. J doesn’t even look away when he reaches over to turn on his music player. Soft piano notes fill the air, and Jason stands up and holds out his hand to Dick.

“You came back. So... surprise!” Dick bites his lip and takes J’s hand, immediately getting pulled into his arms. Jason’s hand rests on his hip, fingertips just brushing the bare skin of Dick’s back. His hand slides across Dick’s back, and Dick inhales, eyes fluttering as J’s fingers discover that Dick’s dress is totally backless. 

“Goddamn, baby. Now I’m thinking I should go away more often, if this is the homecoming I get.” J laces his fingers with Dick’s and starts to sway to the music. Dick rests his free hand on J’s shoulder and leans up to kiss Jason’s cheek.

“No, you absolutely shouldn’t.” Dick pouts, leaning into J’s chest so he can give him the full effect of his puppy dog eyes. 

“Guess I need incentive to stay, then.” J whispers into Dick’s ear, spinning them round and humming along with Mama Cass during the bridge of Dream a Little Dream of Me. 

“I think that can be arranged.” Dick sighs, resting his head on J’s shoulder and shivering pleasantly as J runs his fingertips up and down Dick’s spine, barely skimming his skin.

The song fades to into the next one, the slow rolling beat following the sound of yelling, a man’s low voice seducing Dick into grinding up against J’s thigh and leaning up for another kiss and then another, and another until their hands are roaming across every inch of each other’s bodies. Jason groans low into Dick’s mouth when his hands reach down to spread across Dick’s ass, fingers playing with the hem of the tight skirt and brushing the sensitive skin of Dick’s inner thighs. Dick wraps his arms around Jason’s neck and jumps up into his arms, legs coming up around his waist, letting J take all his weight in his hands. 

They stumble to the bedroom, mouths never leaving each other. J misses the door and Dick ends up pinned to the wall, moaning as he sucks on J’s tongue. Dick giggles when they pull away for air, and Jason snorts in shared amusement, shaking his head ruefully as he leans back and gets them both through the door on the second attempt. J drops Dick on the bed and looms over him, looking down at him with a dark, wanting look of intensity that makes Dick shudder with need, gripping the bedsheets in desperation.

“I really do like that dress on you, yanno?” J continues to stare down at him, so Dick tries to prod him into action by lifting a leg and poking him in the shoulder with the heel of his shoe. J retaliates by wrapping his strong hand around Dick’s ankle, bringing it up to his mouth for a kiss.

“Thanks, I hoped you would.” Dick says coyly, spreading his legs to show off his panties. J inhales sharply when he sees the red lace. 

“But what I got planned for you will ruin that expensive silk. I think we’d better take it off you.” J leers at Dick, kneeling down on the bed and pulling Dick onto his knees. “’Cause, I really wanna see it on you again.” Dick grins, lifting his hips and reaching down to peel the dress up and over his head dropping it off the side of the bed, relishing J’s sigh of satisfaction as the rest of his skin is uncovered. 

“Your turn!” Dick says excitedly, tugging at the sleeve of Jason’s t-shirt. J dutifully reaches back behind his neck to yank his top off and drops it on the ground next to Dick’s dress. “Oh wait, there’s something I want to do...” Dick hops off Jason’s lap and retrieves his phone from his jacket pocket, he’s a bit nervous about asking to film this, he has no idea if J’s willing to. “So uh, you liked the video I sent you right? You said something about wanting to recreate it? So um... if you want to?” Dick waves the phone at him.

“Fuck, kid... that’s...” J stares at him, unblinking for long enough that Dick’s about to take back the suggestion. “I. No, no, OK, y’know what? Sure. Hell, let’s do it. Get that set up to record and then get the fuck over here.” J says, with a slowly spreading wolfish grin that makes Dick’s heart kick up a notch. J shifts to sit on the bed properly, heavily booted feet resting on the floor.

“Really? You’re sure?” Dick bounces on the balls of his feet, trying not to look as excited as he actually is. The idea of having something on his phone he can look at whenever he wants, whenever he can’t risk seeing Jason is... well, he wants it badly. He looks around the room, spotting one of the shelves in the wardrobe right next to the mirror. They can watch themselves and the recording will be at pretty much the same angle, so it’s perfect.

“Yes. As long as I get a copy and it’s you bouncing on my cock. _Yes_.” J holds out his hand for Dick to take and pulls him into his arms. Dick giggles, feeling naughty and reckless and yet utterly safe with J as those strong muscled arms come around his hips. He always means to ask what kind of work out J does, but then he feels them surround him and he doesn’t care, too caught up in the feeling.

J’s hands slide down to the waistband of Dick’s panties, fingers sliding inside and down his hips until they fall down around his heels. Dick kisses the top of Jason’s head, surprising him and they end up knocking their heads together. Dick laughs and J snorts, rubbing at the crown of his head and then leaning up to kiss Dick’s chin in apology with a warm fond look on his face. Dick spins round to sit in Jason’s lap, back to chest with his legs spread and dangling over J’s.

“Mmm, this is already way more fun than last time.” Dick says, pushing his hand between their bodies to unzip J’s pants and get a grip on his big thick cock. Some days just thinking about taking it inside him is enough to make Dick’s mouth water in hunger and today is no exception. J leans in to drop a kiss on Dick’s shoulder, leaning away to the head of the bed, pulling out a familiar tube of lube. When he sits back up, he reaches around to slide one of his big warm hands down Dick’s belly and cups his cock and balls, and Dick rocks into his hand, letting out a needy moan. He’s half hard already and Jason’s hand is getting him all the way there. He remembers the first time J ever did that, the first night they met in the dark underground club where Dick lost all sense and let go, grinding to completion in J’s lap. 

Dick strokes J’s cock until he’s wonderfully hard, soft skin over steel. He shifts forward, creating more of a gap, pulling J’s cock out of his pants. J flicks open the tube and drizzles it over Dick’s fingers, letting him slick his cock up. Dick turns to look over his shoulder and smirk as he lifts up, aiming the tip of his cock at his waiting hole. 

“Dickie... you’re not seriously gonna...” J trails off, gripping Dick’s hips in both hands as Dick lets the cockhead breach his hole, forcing him open and stretching him around the thick girth. “Holy fuck you are oh my fucking god you’re so tight you feel so good, kid, you’re fucking crazy to do that.”

“For you. Oh god, you’re big. Mmmff, _yesss_. I needed this. Let me have it, please, J, please please...” Dick blurts out, a definite whine threading through his voice as he sinks down inch by glorious inch. When he finally takes Jason all the way to the root, Dick’s cock is dripping wet, and he thinks he could probably come only from this if he let himself. “So big, I can’t get enough. Oh _god_ , J!”

“Dickie, you’re so damn tight, I can feel you spasming around me. Fuck, I could get useta this.” J groans close to Dick’s ear. Dick throws his head back, thumping it onto J’s shoulder and bites back a sob. Jason grabs Dick’s thighs, spreading them open wider and with the tight grip he’s got, he’s going to leave bruises. Knowing there’s going to be marks makes Dick’s chest heave and hitch with satisfied pleasure. He lifts up slowly, enjoying the way J hisses “Don’t be lazy baby, _ride_ it.”

Dick looks over to the mirror, the bright red of his bra catching his attention. The contrast between it and the tanned skin of J’s hands holding his legs open is shocking in the best way. Not for the first time, Dick notices the difference between their builds, Jason a solid thick wall of muscle behind and under him, making Dick look almost skinny despite his acrobat’s muscle on his lean frame. But it’s J’s face he ends up being unable to look away from. The slight frown of concentration as he stares at Dick in the mirror, the intense darkness of his eyes make something inside Dick’s chest shake loose and he moans. 

“God, look at you. You crave this don’t you?” J grunts out. “Fuck, see how easy you’re sinking down on me? It’s like coming home. I’m meant to be so deep inside you that I never leave you.” Dick turns his head into Jason’s neck and sobs out a near silent gasp.

“Yes, J, yes. Oh, it’s so much. So much. I love it... Love you.” Dick lifts his legs up to catch his heels on the edge of the bed, helping rise up and drop down on J’s thick cock so deliciously, hitting his prostate nearly every thrust. Jason’s arms wrap around him, and Dick can’t help but reach up to curl his hands around his biceps, feeling the bunch and release of those muscles as he strokes his hands over every available inch of Dick’s skin. 

“Fuck, the way you’re working yourself on me! You’re so damn perfect, Dick.” J says hoarsely, and Dick preens the way he always does when J praises him.

“J... fuck me, please! It’s so good, it’s always so good with you...” Dick gasps out loudly, blissfully. 

Dick’s shaking with the effort of riding Jason now, hole spread so wide he can’t help but love it, hips slowing down with every thrust because of how overwhelming everything he’s feeling is. J starts lifting him up and down, harder and faster, thrusting up to meet him, and Dick’s feet slip from the edge of the bed, jolting with each bounce. It feels so good he can barely move, going limp and pliant in J’s arms, letting him do whatever he wants, because Dick knows he wants it too. Dick looks to the mirror again, relishing the sight of and feel of Jason surrounding and underneath and inside him. J buries his face into Dick’s neck to kiss it softly, making the tender fluttering thing in his chest soar. Jason noses at his face until they’re looking at each other, pressing a gentle kiss to Dick’s lips that Dick can’t stop himself from deepening, letting J’s mouth linger against his sweetly. 

J moves a hand to squeeze one of Dick’s bra cups roughly, and although Dick can’t feel anything but pressure from the weight of J’s hand, he has to break from the kiss to moan. Dick can’t tell if the moisture on his face is sweat or tears, isn’t sure he care when he sobs loudly, Jason having taken hold of his nearly forgotten erection and stroking it in counterpoint to his thrusts. Dick can’t even try to swallow the wail that rises from his chest when Jason hits his prostate at the same time as he twists his wrist at the end of a stroke. He orgasms hard, come arcing up to land on his collar and falsies. J lets go of his cock to shove his hand into Dick’s wig, pulling it off.

“That’s better, I want the real you, Dickie.” J whispers as he wraps his arm tightly around Dick’s middle, slamming up over and over, chasing his own pleasure, Dick chanting his name under his breath mindlessly. Jason grunts, head dropping down to Dick’s shoulder again, shuddering while he fills Dick up.

They sit there, Jason catching his breath and Dick waiting for his knees to feel steady enough to stand until J slips out of him. Dick can’t stop smiling, giggles breaking through his slowing breathing. After a few minutes, J loosens his grip on him enough for Dick to squirm out of his arms and stagger over to his phone, picking it up and stopping the recording. He bites his lip when he realises that the dripping feeling on his thighs is Jason’s come.

“Fuck, we made a mess of you, pretty bird.” J’s voice is low and rumble-y and it shouldn’t affect Dick as much as it does after a fuck like that. Dick stumbles back over to the bed, dropping down in it next to J. He swipes through his contacts and sends J the video, smile widening into a grin.

“Hey, want to see what we made?” Dick says, patting at J’s arm that he’d thrown over his eyes in the few seconds it had taken Dick to get back to the bed. J shifts his arm enough to eye Dick warily.

“Kid, you’re a fucking menace. Can’t we clean up and nap first?” J groans, obviously fighting off sleep, much to Dick’s amusement.

“Nope, first we watch this, then you can nap like the old man you aren’t.” Dick says, bouncing on the bed in anticipation. J shoves himself up the bed, pushing the pillows around to make a more comfortable seat, and gesturing for Dick to settle himself between J’s powerful thighs. “Besides, you’re going to enjoy this.” 

“I enjoy everything about you, baby. Even back when I thought you were just a snot nosed brat, I still liked watching you work.” J kisses the side of Dick’s neck and hits play on the video, pulling him in close as they watch Dick’s panties hit the floor again.


End file.
